


Christmas Time at Garreg Mach Cat Café

by AlchemistNine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, No Gilberts Allowed, Romance, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlchemistNine/pseuds/AlchemistNine
Summary: Byleth Eisner is going back to her hometown at the request of her cousin Flayn to work at the local cat café. Reunions can be hard, especially when she can't stop thinking about a certain dark-haired gloomy man she's left behind. Hopefully everyone will just let her do her job and pet some kittens while at it.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27
Collections: Felileth Secret Santa 2020





	Christmas Time at Garreg Mach Cat Café

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orochiis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orochiis/gifts).



> This is a a gift for [Charlie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orochiis/profile) for the Felileth server Secret Santa! I had a lot of fun including your prompts and hope you enjoy it! <3 
> 
> A massive thank you to [Elasmosaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elasmosaurus/pseuds/Elasmosaurus) for organising everything and also for beta-ing this fic! Without your precious comments, this fic wouldn't be the same; moreover, that you did it on the last day in world record time was absolutely incredible, so all my gratitude and love <3 
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone!

Byleth takes a deep breath; the air at Enbarr University is filled with the smell of burnt pine cones, lit up at the first signs of cold. She chuckles to herself; if any of these people were to live in Garreg Mach or, goddess forbid, Fhirdiad, they’d curl up and freeze to death. 

She’s terrible at goodbyes, she knows it, and she has a feeling Edelgard knows it too. Thankfully, this isn’t as much a “I’m leaving and I don’t know how many years will pass until I return” as it is a simple “see you in two weeks”. 

Except it isn’t simple at all.

She notices Edelgard has stopped selecting outfits for her (“don’t you have a single pair of warm pants,” she asked, seemingly perplexed) and is looking at her.

“How long has it been since you went back?” She inquires.

Byleth does calculations in her head.

“Nine years and two months,” she answers. “But I’ve always seen my family after that.” After all, she’d moved with her parents to Derdriu and, even when they relocated to Fhirdiad and she made the decision to go study at Enbarr U, she still spent most holidays with them and the rest of the family.

Edelgard nods. “Yes, but that’s not what worries you. What worries you is that you’re going to see all your childhood friends again, in the flesh.”

“I’m not worried,” Byleth says automatically, but deep down she knows Edelgard’s right. She’d left all those years ago, half her life really, save for a couple of years, only to return for the silliest of reasons. And it was all good and fun and easy if only she didn’t think she was going to see a series of familiar faces, people who she’d been with almost every day.

Annette Dominic. Ingrid Galatea. Sylvain Gautier. Mercedes Martritz. 

_Felix Fraldarius_.

She’d been classmates with some, played video and board games with the others, but brawled and danced and kissed just one.

Alright, so it wasn’t a full-blown kiss on the lips. She was fourteen and he was sixteen and it was in front of his father and brother and her father and _Sylvain_. It was supposed to be a simple peck on the cheek, really, or maybe a short hug, because who knows when she’d see him again, but then he leaned his head to the side and she lingered, and then she spent the whole plane trip to Derdriu feeling like the corner of her lips were on fire, and her cheeks too, and the rest of her face and her body and her goddamn mortal soul.

She hadn’t seen him or any of the others after that day, even if, from time to time, people would send her photos and they´d appear. She’s watched them all grow that way: Ingrid’s hair got shorter, then longer again, a cascade of blond voluminous hair which she kept meticulously in place in all photos (“Look, look! Here she is with Sylvain,” her cousin Flayn told her, and that’s how she knew they got together, at long last), Annette had gone from a redheaded ditzy schoolgirl to a mature, practical woman (still ditzy, she was sure), and Sylvain outgrew everyone else so much he towered above them all. 

Now Felix was a unicorn; he’d never show up on photographs on social media, not even in his father’s or brother’s profiles. Until one time, Edelgard was browsing Facebook when she let an “ah-ha!” echo through the room and, like a proud detective, presented her evidence to Byleth.

“This is Felix, isn’t he? I remember you telling me he had dark hair and sullen eyes! This guy looks like he wants to murder everyone -”

She peeked out of shameless interest and nearly gasped, for it was indeed _the_ Felix Fraldarius, the rarest of spottings. And it wasn’t even his full figure; half of him had managed to escape the camera. But doubtlessly it was him: black hair that used to shine whenever the sun uncovered at Garreg Mach, pale skin that burnt easily if they stayed too long outside (usually lost in long brawling sessions), thin lips that were usually kept in a serious expression, although she’d seen him smile plenty (and she took pride in making him smile).

And then, two months later, Flayn had called her in a frenzy, asking her cousin Byleth that, for everything she holds dear, please please please, come work at Garreg Mach for a month until Christmas Day. At Garreg Mach’s Cat Café, to be precise, which Flayn had helped create and worked at, except that that year she very much wanted to be alongside uncle Seteth for the inauguration of the Derdriu Aquarium she too had helped create.

“Why don’t you just hire someone,” she almost said through the phone, listening at her cousin’s passionate pleas. But she knew the cat café had been a love project for her and Mercedes, who worked there full-time, along with Annette and one Ashe Ubert who’d moved into Garreg Mach three years after she left. They were all tremendously rich, could easily subcontract the business and not have anything direct to do with it, but, as Flayn told her countless times, it was their baby and they all preferred to stay personally involved. They sheltered cats from town, socialised them and put them for adoption; it really was working, Garreg Mach’s stray cat population was slowly reducing. Flayn frequently updated her with news of the latest adoption or cat-themed drink, to the point Byleth had thought many times about going back to visit, but never mustered the will to.

Edelgard resumes packing Byleth’s attire for the time she’ll be gone. The women work in silence, used to each other’s presence; sometimes, the absence of words serves as better communication between them than any words at all.

“There,” the other woman says. “I’ve done my best, but I cannot guarantee you won’t freeze in Garreg Mach! I don’t know how you manage even here in Enbarr with all those flimsy shirts and lace leggings. You don’t even have a winter coat.”

Byleth shrugs. “I do go to Fhirdiad with these clothes too, El.”

Edelgard gasps in pretend shock; she’s in a good mood, although Byleth can see her eyes are sad. Her friend doesn’t like goodbyes, too. 

“At least drive with the AC on, it’ll keep you warm on the journey. Garreg Mach is, what, three days' distance tops?”

“Thirty-one hours of uninterrupted driving,” Byleth replies. “It’s a good thing I like driving. Hey,” she goes on; puts a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder and squeezes it gently. “It’s only for a month; before you know it, I’ll be back into this” - she opens her arms and spins around in her room - “wonderful environment I now call home,” she says. “And next year, with a fresh new class, to boot.”

Edelgard offers a tiny smile. “Oh well Byleth, you know what they say about academia,” she says, lifting one finger at a time. “Demanding, time-consuming, life-engrossing, and, still, too attractive for any of us to truly turn our backs to. Our fate is sealed, my friend. You may leave academia for the time being, but academia never leaves you.”

The colors of sunrise filter through the windows of Byleth’s room, bathing them in tones of greyish gold and salmon pink. 

“I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone,” Byleth says.

“That can’t be true,” Edelgard replies in earnest. “I’m already missing you.”

They hug each other and Byleth realizes she’s begun to think of the platinum haired woman as a sister. Six years really is a long time; enough for friendship ties to be as strong as blood ones.

.

Byleth Eisner is twenty kilometers away from Garreg Mach.

She hardly believes it herself; partly because she’s returning to the town that has seen her grow until she was fourteen; partly because she can’t believe it took her so long to return. Garreg Mach isn’t that far to drive, even if her joints and muscles beg to differ. But she’s always felt it wasn’t her place to return to anymore, as her parents themselves never did. A closed chapter in her life book.

But it was in Garreg Mach that her life had begun; in fact, it was because of who lived in Garreg Mach that she was born at all. Her father, Jeralt, was used to stay for a few years at the time with someone; a renowned bodyguard, he’d worked for the likes of businessmen and politicians his entire life. Garreg Mach was supposed to be just that, another temporary gig serving under one Rodrigue Fraldarius, head of a business empire so vast it kept tentacles over all sorts of areas: catering, technology, luxury real estate. And it started being just that for her father, until he met her mother, the daughter of a parliament advisor who’d mostly keep to herself but progressively spent more and more time with Rodrigue’s head bodyguard. It wasn’t long before she got pregnant with her and Jeralt was - politely - invited to live with Sitri at their mansion. To the outside world, their wedding must have looked like a shotgun wedding, but Byleth knew their parents loved each other very much, to the point they were inseparable, a trait she was sure bothered her grandmother just a tiny bit when they moved to Derdriu (and a tiny bit less when grandma moved herself to Fhirdiad, just a few blocks away from her parent's home; which in turn had bothered her father a tiny bit _more_ ).

Someone is calling her. Byleth looks over at the car display; it’s her cousin Flayn.

“Hey, cousin,” she answers, never letting her sight leave the road. She’s ten kilometers away now.

“My dearest cousin, at long last I’ve arrived in Derdriu!” Flayn’s shrieks come out strong across her sound system, and Byleth lowers the volume just a little. “It’s so good in here! It’s warmer than in Garreg Mach!”

“Hmm hmm. How’s uncle?” Byleth asks, following a directional sign to Garreg Mach. 

“He’s so happy I can be here with him! Oh Byleth, I am ever so grateful you accepted to replace me at the cat café! I am sure your experiences there shall be wondrous and full of joy!”

"Must _you speak like a heroine of yore?_ " Byleth thinks; the more Flayn gets excited, the more she sounds like a Jane Austen protagonist.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m nearly there too.”

“Anyway,” Byleth hears a clamor of voices behind her cousin and a chorus of laughter. “I just wanted to thank you again and hope everything pleases you! Remember, I’ve put the key under the rug, so call me if you can’t find it! Have a magnificent day!” 

_Ploop_ , she hangs off.

“Thanks, Flayn,” Byleth mumbles, but she can’t be mad at Flayn’s air headedness for too long. After all, for the last two months she had painstakingly been through a series of explanations as to what her temporary job would entail, what was she supposed to do, how they organised the business and which cat was which, complete with an album of photographs and a profile of each cat, personality and tastes included. She had been extremely thorough, to the points of organising quizzes. Byleth felt that her cousin too would feel like a fish in the academic world. 

She grasps the miniature of a monastery that has received every tourist and local townspeople for the last three centuries: “Welcome to Garreg Mach”.

She’s back.

.

The town has changed a little since she’d been there, as expected. There was a roundabout where there used to be a crossing, some new trees where there used to be none, and she could swear there was some kind of store in that street that was definitely not the vintage tea house she’s now passing through.

Garreg Mach has always been a place of considerable wealth, having once served as capital of the country, although that distinction now belonged to Fhirdiad. Still, it preserved a sense of opulence and organisation she could hardly grasp in Enbarr, for instance, where you could easily end up in a neighbourhood with buildings next to each in completely different styles and colour schemes. 

She passes through the familiar huge gated entryways that she remembers from her childhood and early teenage years, no doubt leading to grandiose mansions such as the one she’s about to head into. Once again, she laughs at the absurd notion she once held that everyone lived like that; her modest apartment at Enbarr U would beg to differ, and even her home at Derdriu was far smaller. 

Byleth delves deeper into Garreg Mach, to the properties in the surroundings and counts one, two, three right turns until she reaches it, the entryway to her grandmother’s home. It’s late in the evening and she can barely see much of anything, but rest assured she stops the car and, as soon as she speaks her name to the intercom, the gates slowly open for her. Her grandmother’s housekeeper is an old lady and she is not the same who Byleth used to see around, but she ascertains her expertise as she commands a series of maids to take her luggage and shows her to her old room.

“Miss Flayn told us you’d prefer to stay here,” she says; Byleth thinks she is apologising herself, for the mansion has many more unused rooms, and bigger. She thanks the housekeeper and whatever maids she finds for all their hard work, accepts half of the banquet they had prepared for her arrival (an assortment of cheeses, baked fish and a plate of fruit and sweets), asks for the rest to be stored for the day after, and collapses atop her old bed, grateful that Flayn knows her well enough to know she wouldn’t have it any other way after thirty-one hours of driving.

.

Byleth wakes up feeling refreshed and eager to see her old friends, now coworkers. She takes a minute absorbing the surroundings of her bedroom; it’s sparsely decorated, but she immediately spots a couple of books about the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion on her mostly empty shelf and makes a note to take those back as well when she returns to Enbarr. 

“I really haven’t strayed from my path at all, huh.”

She gets dressed and makes a dash for the mansion’s exit, but is easily intercepted by the housekeeper who wants to know if everything is to her liking, how does she want her breakfast and should she call the chauffeur to drive her to the cat café?

“I don’t usually have breakfast,” she answers with a thin voice, anticipating a reproachful answer. If the housekeeper feels strongly about this, she opts not to demonstrate it. “Thank you so much, but I’d rather drive myself. I’ll see you later!”

As she gets in the car, she gulps at the sight of her phone screen, and immediately calls her father.

“Relax,” her father says the second he answers the phone. “Your grandmother’s housekeeper called us yesterday to tell us you were already there, otherwise I wouldn’t have stop calling.”

“Sorry, dad.” She clenches her teeth, starts the car engine. “I guess I was really tired.”

“Sweetheart,” Byleth hears her mother’s melodic voice, no doubt hijacking the phone from her stern husband. “Call us anytime you need, alright? Grandma also sends you a big kiss and wants me to tell you you can stay as long as you like, beyond Christmas if you’d so prefer.”

“That’s awfully sweet of her,” replies Byleth, emphasising the word “awfully”.

Sitri chuckles on the phone. “I know, daughter. She hoped you’d come back to Garreg Mach for good one day; instead, you go and become a professor at Enbarr! But she’s so happy at the fact you’re there now, she’s not giving up yet.”

“Well, tell her the staff are keeping her house in brilliant shape, she’ll love that.”

“Wonderful!” She can hear her mother’s smile on the other side, and that makes her smile too. “I hope you have a lovely time there, my daughter. Please send everyone our dearest regards.”

“Yeah,” Jeralt interjects. “I want to know how Alois is doing with Rodrigue. And, hmm, send my regards to Rodrigue if you see him.”

Byleth says her goodbyes and focuses on the road. She loves her parents dearly. Her father may not be the most affectionate person in public, but he is kind and patient (she may have inherited more from his traits than she’d liked to admit). As for her mother, she’s like the sun; a bright, warm presence that lights every space she’s in. Sitri doesn’t possess a brilliant career, nor does she have multiple academic achievements under her belt, but she’s a sensible, wise woman who’d raised her, sometimes entirely by herself, what with the nature of her father’s work. Her mother has never complained to her, not then and not now, but sometimes Byleth saw the fire in her mother’s eyes and she knew without a doubt Sitri would never hesitate to give her father a piece of her mind.

So, every bit like her too.

.

Byleth is painfully aware that she’s not the decorative type, the type of person who enjoys organising things by color schemes or paying attention to aesthetics, and never has been, clearly evidenced by her room in her grandmother’s mansion. However, even she pauses to appreciate the entryway to Garreg Mach’s Cat Café; a room brightly lit with warm fairy lights who surround the counter and go around the walls, falling like golden rain. To the right, a Christmas tree that nearly reaches the ceiling is filled with cream and white coloured ribbons and baubles, as well as with an assortment of odd decorations sprinkled on its branches, in the shape of fish bones, cat biscuits and other cat-related paraphernalia.

There is no one at the counter, but as she passed the front door she triggered a meowing sound, prompting someone to rush from the inside; a redheaded tornado.

“Welcome to Garreg Mach Café!” The redhead chirps. “How may I help you - ooooh, Byleth, it’s you!!! You’re finally here!!!” And she screeches and runs to hug a caught off guard Byleth, who sees no escape but to hug the girl back.

“Hey, Annette,” she says, her voice muffled against the other girl’s shoulder. “It’s been a while.”

“Yessss, it really has!!!!!!” Byleth feels every exclamation point in her voice. “But you still recognised me, yay! I’ve let my hair grow since, have you seen how long it is right now?” She turns and lets her flaming mane wave around her. Byleth notices a pair of fluffy blue cat ears sticking out from the top of Annette’s head, matching the color of her large eyes.

“It’s gotten really long,” Byleth agrees.

“Oh,” Annette regains her professional tone and posture. “But welcome, welcome! Let me show you around and introduce you to the rest of the gang! Or should I say reintroduce, since you know us all! Except for Ashe, I think he got here after you left?”

“He did,” Byleth confirms, taking some time to adjust to Annette’s impressive speech speed.

“He’s the best cook this café could have! And I could be biased, but I’m really not.” Byleth must have a confused expression on her face, because Annette hastens to add: “We’ve been dating for two years.”

“Oh,” Byleth makes, not knowing what to say. She only remembers Flayn telling her about Sylvain and Ingrid, which is a remarkable thing on its own. He was always wooing some girl through smooth and flowery words, while Ingrid watched at a distance and worked overtime to fix whatever messes he got into.

“Alright, so! Have you ever been in a cat cafe before?” Annette’s eyes practically sparkle with the intensity as those of the fairy lights.

“I haven’t, no,” Byleth answers truthfully.

“Ah, don’t worry about that! There aren’t many. I think there was going to be one in Enbarr, but they haven’t gotten to it yet! Anyway,” she opens the inner door at her left by pushing and pulling on a contraption, “this is the entry to the main room, where all the action happens!”

They go through the door and the first thought that comes to Byleth is that the café looks like a quaint postcard. The tables stand low to the floor, with chairs and puffs around them. There are wooden passageways nailed to the white walls in various heights, and Byleth sees feeders and water fountains on the corners and cat beds on the windows or perched up high. She spots three cats lying on the beds and two being played with by seated customers, who happily wave mice suspended on threads.

“Mercie!” Annette calls, leading Byleth to a counter on the far right of the room. “This is our kitchen,” she explains, pointing.

“Annette?” A soft voice emerges from the kitchen, followed by the serene figure of Mercedes Martritz. “Byleth? Oh my, is it really you?”

“I am, and I am ready to work,” Byleth answers. The women exchange a small hug. She did not use to mingle much with Mercedes back in the days; where she, Felix, Sylvain and Ingrid would play superheroes for hours and, years later, discuss and practice self-defence maneuvers (of which Byleth was well-acquainted due to the lessons from her father), Mercedes and Annette preferred other activities, such as sewing, painting and dancing. Still, they were as affable as they were then, and the proof of their big hearts was this cat café that was the brainchild of them both.

“It’s so wonderful to see you again,” Mercedes says. “We weren’t sure you could come to work today, as I’m sure your travel was very exhausting! But we sure need your help for the coming days; it gets very busy at the café at this time of the year.”

If Byleth closed her eyes, she could practically hear her mother; she hadn’t realised until now just how similar they were. How baffling.

“Happy to help,” she says, and she means it.

“Good.” Mercedes smiles and takes Byleth’s hands in hers. “Now, what has Flayn told you about our little café?”

“Well… everything,” Byleth answers, and both girls laugh.

“As expected from Flayn!” Annette exclaims. The meowing sound from before is heard throughout the room. “Oh, customers,” she says before resuming her position.

Byleth looks at Mercedes and recites back the gist of Flayn’s explanations: “Café opens from Tuesday to Saturday; opens at seven am and closes at seven pm for the public, except on Fridays, when it closes at five. When the café isn’t open, cats live there,” she points to the door that separates the main room from the cat room, "and when it’s open, they can go from there to here through those,” she points at the pet doors that line the lower bottom of the right wall. “Annette’s usually at the front, Ashe is the cook and you supervise and help where needed. Flayn was the main waitress, so that’s what I’ll be. And those,” she points at the cats she can see, “are Ophelia, TamTam and Rexxie.”

As if on cue, Ophelia, the large fluffy white cat, raises from her bed and stretches her legs before she turns two laps on herself and drops to the bed again.

“As expected from a professor!” Mercedes cheers, clapping joyfully. “Well then, let’s get you started! You can leave your coat behind the - oh, you didn’t bring a coat? Alright then, let’s get you an apron and some cat ears!”

Mercedes makes for Byleth to go into the kitchen as she goes to the storage that is next to the cat room. She feels amazed at the cleanliness of the kitchen and the smells that come out of it: chocolate, coffee and freshly baked bread. She notices a grey-haired man with his back to her, humming as he flips pancakes on a pan.

“Hello,” Byleth says, in what she hopes is a friendly tone.

The man turns. “Oh, you must be Byleth Eisner!” He extends his arm to her; his handshake is vigorous and assured. “I’m Ashe, Ashe Ubert. I’m the cook!”

“Nice to meet you, Ashe”, replies Byleth. “The food looks amazing.”

She’s not sugarcoating it either; Ashe places cat shaped pancakes on a plate and proceeds to sprinkle them with powdered sugar, then puts the plate on a tray already filled with jams and chocolate spreads.

“Ahah, thank you. Doing my best!” His smile forms dimples at the corners of his mouth and he momentarily blushes.

Byleth immediately decides she likes this guy.

Mercedes comes through the kitchen. “Here you are, dear!” She presents her with an apron similar to the ones they all have, a light brown fabric embroidered with the silhouette of a white cat and the words “Cat Café” on the bottom, with little paws around them. She also gives her a pair of black cat ears.

“I figured, since you wear a lot of black, you’d like these!” She says, half-apologetically.

Byleth grabs the fluffy ears and adjusts the headband on her hand.

“I wouldn’t have chosen better myself,” she replies, and Mercedes smiles, relieved.

.

Mercedes was right: the cat café was a busy place. She spends all day communicating orders to Ashe and delivering delicious food and beverages to the customers, who usually stay no longer than one, two hours (Garreg Mach cat café charges every half an hour). She also needs to stay vigilant of all ten tables in case anyone requests to feed the cats or play with them, so she can fetch cat snacks and toys accordingly (and add to the extra charges).

It is a demanding job, far more physically strenuous than Byleth is used to.

For the last five years she has focused on her studies, greatly intensifying the hours spent reading books and practicing public speaking. If everything goes to plan, she is to start teaching next year, leading a class of young students, wide eyed and full of potential.

She can’t believe she ended up here, she thinks as she mindlessly takes and delivers all orders on her second day at the cat café; that the physical-prone, athletic Byleth has slowly replaced her time exercising at the gym and running in the park for a large desk and hundreds of notes and learning materials on educational methods; from a girl who absconded from textbooks to a woman who revelled in exploring their secrets and transmitting them to others.

And now, apparently, to a woman with cat ears holding a menu with dishes such as “Catomellete du Fromage” and “Chocolate Meowsse”.

“Good morning,” she says to the couple who just arrived, ready to tell them the specials for today, when she practically gasps once she realises who they are.

“Well, well.” She hears a snarky, self-assured voice. “If it isn’t the Professor. I can call you professor, right? Word is you’re on your way to become Enbarr University’s dean.”

The redheaded man is promptly elbowed by a frowning blonde woman. “Don’t be stupid,” she warns him. Then she smiles at Byleth and nods. “It’s good to see you again, Byleth. It’s been so long!”

“Sylvain, Ingrid,” she says. The arm holding the menu goes limp. Photo after photo shown to her by Flayn couldn’t have prepared her enough to see her childhood friends in the flesh. “Don’t call me Professor,” she bites back at Sylvain. “Not unless you intend to attend one of my future classes.”

Sylvain laughs, a thunderous sound that feels devoid of real sentiment. “I guess we could arrange that in the future! One call to Enbarr University and I’m game.”

“Sylvain.” Ingrid warns him again, this time stomping on his foot and not lightly, as the man yelps in pain. “I apologise for Sylvain’s behaviour,” she says, sighing. “We knew you were coming back to Garreg Mach at Flayn’s request. Sylvain and I missed you, but of course he has to go about this like an ass.”

“You’re right,” Sylvain admits, to Byleth’s shock. “We did miss you, Byleth.”

She is flabbergasted. In no space or time dimension was she expecting to hear serious Sylvain immediately after Ingrid reproaching him. Did he actually grow up?

“It’s okay, Sylvain. Although, speaking of asses,” Byleth asks very quickly, and it has to be like that because it’s now or never and she may never have the guts to ask it again, “is Felix around? Does he usually come to the café?”

Sylvain doesn’t say anything, but she notices he’s looking at her very intently. She offers a silent prayer to the Goddess, hoping that she’s spoken in a most neutral way, not burning of intense curiosity at all, oh no.

“Felix?” Ingrid repeats aghast, tapping the table. “He barely leaves his room, let alone his house! Sylvain and I went by the other day and he wouldn’t even come to see us. He just does what he wants, whenever he wants. Do you remember how he used to be?” She sighs. “Well, he’s worse.”

Byleth bites her lip in apprehension and a headache threatens to install amidst her temples. She realises she’s not okay with the fact that she may stay in the same town at the same time as Felix Fraldarius and leave again without seeing him. She’s not okay with that at all. 

“It’s… well,” she’s digressing; she has to rein in her speech. “I just would like to see him again, is all.”

Reclined against the wall, Sylvain grabs the menu. He asks for bergamot tea with a slice of lemon and a cat pancake with banana and almond topping, please and thank you.

.

Byleth falls into the cradling routine of working at the cat café and, once they close down, she offers to stay behind to clean up for the next day.

“You don’t have to do this, By,” protests Mercedes. “Not every day. We usually make a schedule amongst ourselves of who stays later to clean, and no one ever cleans alone.”

“I don’t mind, Mercedes,” Byleth assures her. “I am used to doing things by myself. Besides, you all have stuff to do, gifts to buy, people to meet here at Garreg Mach. Me, I’m just here to work.” 

She is painfully aware of how pitiful her words sound. She buckles up and prepares for a rebuttal, but Mercedes doesn’t insist. Instead, she touches Byleth’s arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. 

“If that’s what you want, I can’t argue with you.”

Byleth arrives ten minutes late to the café one day, having spent too much time choosing a Christmas ornament to put on the tree in the entranceway, as per Mercedes request. She ultimately decides on a candy cane with whiskers before speeding up. 

When she arrives, breathless, she sees no one inside the café except for the staff reunited in a half-circle, facing Sylvain, who is holding something small, and all the cats around him looking up.

“Ooooh, Byleth, over here!” Annette beckons. “Get a look at this adorable little thing.”

Sylvain turns to her and she sees what he’s cradling: a tiny kitten, no more than two, three months old, half-asleep in his arms despite the commotion, black fur all over except for the white chest and paws.

“So precious!” Mercedes says, petting his nose with her index finger. He smells it, utterly focused, chin lifted until something else distracts him. “Of course we can keep him, but he’s still very young. You’ve had him for more than a month, then? Sylvain?”

“Y-yes!” Sylvain answers. “He’s been out of the streets practically since he was born!”

“But why didn’t you tell us anything before?” Annette asks. Ashe has already taken the kitten from Sylvain, careful to shield him from the other cats’ incessant prying. “I had no idea you were taking care of a kitten in your house until just now!”

“Heh, didn’t come to mind,” he says, scratching his head. “Look, he doesn’t need to be bottle-fed anymore, and he’s a strong boy. But I needed to find him another place to stay and you guys are the best I know.”

Everyone cooes and coddles the new kitten. Byleth herself goes for a few pets on his neck. The kitten stares at everyone with black shiny eyes, revelling in all the attention.

“Does he have a name?” She asks while tying her work apron on the back.

“I've kinda been calling him Felix,” he answers, looking straight at Byleth. “What do you guys think?”

 _Felix?_ Byleth’s heart skips a few beats, but no one seems to notice. “I - of course, it _is_ a cat’s name.”

“See here, he’s kinda similar to him, isn’t him?” Sylvain says excitedly. “What with his fur and his eyes. Except this Felix we can pet!”

The staff stays silent for a few seconds. Mercedes in particular puts one closed fist under her chin, until she nods in agreement.

“Alright,” she says softly, beckoning for Ashe to pass her the kitten. She pets him very carefully and he seems to be falling asleep. “I’ll go put him in the cat room and take care of his integration,” she adds in a whisper, leaving.

The entrance meowing resonates and Annette jumps in startle.

“Alright, let’s get back to work!” She exclaims, dashing through the room.

Sylvain stands in the same place, hands in his pockets. He looks at Byleth from the top of his height and she straightens her back.

“Anything I can get you, Sylvain?” She asks.

His mouth twitches in a smile. If Byleth didn’t know better, she’d think he was tired.

“Yes, I… I guess I have time for a tea. Black tea, please,” he says while sitting on a puff nearby the counter. 

“A cup of black tea, Ashe, thank you,” she calls inside the kitchen, and Ashe confirms the order vigorously. The tea is quick to arrive and the mug comes scalding hot.

Byleth hurries to serve the couple that has entered the café, but, even against her better judgement, she keeps an eye on Sylvain. It’s the first time she’s seen him at the café without Ingrid, which is not a suspicious feature per se, but there is something about the way he keeps tapping on the table and whistling at the nearest cat - brown swirled short fur Rexxie - that makes her wonder just what exactly is up with him.

She doesn’t need to keep thinking about this much longer, for as she puts the last item on the table of the couple (a mug of hot chocolate), someone barges in, bare seconds after the entrance meow warning.

_Felix Hugo Fraldarius._

It’s a fortuitous thing that Byleth had already served the hot chocolate, because otherwise it would have spilled all over the floor, the beanbags and perhaps the couple itself.

Felix stops for a brief moment and scans the entire room, until his eyes zoom in on Sylvain. He marches forward.

“What the hell did you do with the cat?” he asks point blank. 

Sylvain blows the smoke from his mug, warms his hands on the ceramic. “Heeeey, Felix! What do you mean?”

“Don’t.” Felix’s movements are slower now; he’s tensing his muscles and narrowing his eyes. “ _Like a cat waiting to launch on its prey_ ,” Byleth thinks. She can't help but to watch in fascination.

They lock eyes with each other for a split second before Mercedes puts herself between them both. Byleth’s father would be proud of her bodyguard’s senses.

“Felix, hello! Welcome to the cat café. I can see you want to talk to Sylvain. Can I ask you to please do so in the kitchen?” She points to the entry behind the counter, lifting the wood platform so they can follow her. “By, can you please call Annette at the front to help you here, please? I’m taking Sylvain and Felix to the kitchen. Thank you.”

“There’s no need to -“ Felix stops mid-sentence. He glances at Byleth - the first glance, the first acknowledgment that he’s seen her, that he knows he’s in Garreg Mach, at that cat café - and quickly enters the kitchen. “Fine,” he says.

In the room, Sylvain sighs and follows behind. 

Byleth does as she was told. Annette is burning with curiosity as much as she is, but she’s easily distracted as the couple asks her about which cats are for adoption, a theme dear to her heart. She’s the best to talk with the customers about this and there are no more people to wait on at the moment, so Byleth pretends she needs to fetch something from the kitchen in order to hear their conversation.

“He couldn’t have escaped, Sylvain.” Felix’s tone is deathly. “He was in my room the entire time, locked. Of course it had to be you. Why they allowed you to enter my room, I can’t imagine.”

“You know why they let me in, Felix,” Sylvain answers. “I'm your best friend!”

Felix shakes his head. “Idiots, all of you.”

Sylvain sighs. “Fine, fine. But my point still stands.”

“You - kidnapped - a cat,” Felix hisses, pointing at Sylvain.

“Hey, kidnap is such a strong word!” Sylvain argues back. “I just brought him here.”

They lock eyes for five full seconds that feel like an eternity. Mercedes inhales deeply.

“May I intervene?” She asks with a smile. To Byleth, she looks like a bomb defuser, armed with nothing but her voice and carefulness.

“Sure,” answers Felix. 

“Okay, so,” she speaks clearly and slowly. “Felix, you were taking care of the kitten.”

“Yes,” he answers immediately.

“And Sylvain, you took him away.”

“Yes,” Sylvain answers. “But I had to do it.”

“Why?” Mercedes asks plainly.

“Because he couldn’t keep him for much longer; he told me so.” Sylvain leaned onto the kitchen table. “Because he didn’t know what to do and, like always, is too proud and stubborn to ask for help.”

Mercedes nods. “Is that true, Felix? You couldn’t keep the kitten?”

Felix clenches his teeth. “Yes,” he answers, massaging his temples. 

“Well, then it’s settled,” Mercedes affirms, looking at them both. “Felix, we’ll take good care of the kitten, and you can help, if you want. I’m sure you have some of his belongings that you can bring here.”

“I want. And I do,” Felix affirms, his voice sharp like a steel sword.

“And Sylvain,” Mercedes turns. “I’m sure that your heart was in the right place. But you must apologise to Felix. You startled him a lot!”

Sylvain looks at Felix and extends his hands.

“I’m sorry, Felix.”

Felix stares at Sylvain’s hand.

“I accept your apology,” he says, and he turns around.

Byleth wonders if she should follow him; after all, Mercedes keeps talking to Sylvain, Ashe resumes his baking and Annette is still talking to the couple about potential adoptions. She has limited time, very limited really, but if there’s anything life has taught her about time, is that it is what she makes of it. She’s not one to let time pass without taking her chances; not anymore, with him so close by.

She enters the cat room. Sunlight pours through the translucent curtains, casting webbed patterns on the wooden floorboards. 

She sees Felix the human crouching near Felix the cat, petting him in a manner so gentle she almost can’t believe he is the same person who was about to rip Sylvain’s head off. But she takes one more look at him and she knows, she knows that he is the same Felix that she has said goodbye to nine years ago: a storm in a cup, a turmoil of fiery emotions at times perfectly contained, at others thrown at will.

“Hi, Felix,” she says, feeling like a teenager again.

He looks up. There is something almost comical about seeing him next to a small kitten. It’s as if, no matter how much toughness he wants to project, he will fail as long as he is next to the cuteness that is Felix the cat.

“Hey, Byleth.” His voice is low. Hearing him say her name again unwillingly sends a jolt down her spine. 

He looks even more beautiful than she remembers; taller, for certain, with broader shoulders. His hair is caught in what looks like a complex up-do, with black strands sweeping across half his forehead. His eyes are hazel and pierce through her own, like they can easily uncurtain all her secrets.

It was too much for her to bear, so she once again turns to pretend and occupies her hands with a random assortment of cat toys. “How are you?” She cringes; count on Byleth Eisner to ask the most basic and difficult of questions.

“Surviving.” He resumes petting his homonymous four-legged friend, until he walks to the water fountain and he sits on the floor, hugging one leg next to his chest. “My brother arrives on Christmas and my - father - doesn’t talk of anything else besides the feast and the banquet.”

“What a terrible, terrible predicament,” Byleth says, smiling.

“Humph. I suppose there are worse things out there. But enough of myself,” He turns to her, glances at something behind her right shoulder, “Why are you here? Weren’t you teaching at Enbarr University?”

“No. I’m starting next year. Didn’t anybody tell you? Flayn asked me to replace her at the café, she wanted to spend Christmas and New Year with my uncle.”

“Someone probably told me, yes.” He closes his eyes. “I will never understand why people always want to be together at the holidays. It’s just some other day. Although, for Glenn, I can see it. He’s always telling me he can’t wait to come back to Mercedes.”

“I - _what_?” Byleth chokes and coughs, leading Felix to open his eyes.

“ _Didn’t anybody tell you_? My brother and Mercedes are engaged. She’s to become my sister in law.”

“I - well, that’s - congratulations to them both, I guess,” Byleth sputters. Why couldn’t Flayn have updated her on that?

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” Felix says. “Have you been living under a rock?”

“Hey, y-you -” Byleth waves her arms around, flabbergasted, “- you don’t even have any social media!”

“That’s true,” Felix ascertains. “I’m glad you noticed.”

Byleth realises this means she’s just confessed she had looked him up and almost bites her tongue in her haste to shut up. Felix looks at her, a mild expression of amusement on him.

“It’s funny to see you behaving like that,” he says. “You were so put together.”

“Still am,” she retaliates, feeling like an utter wreck of indignity.

Felix smirks. He looks so handsome, damn him to all eternity. Damn him for never going to Derdriu or Enbarr, even if it was for something or someone else entirely, but most of all damn her for never having gone back to Garreg Mach, back to where he was.

“What about you?” He asks. 

“What about me?”

“Well, are you seeing someone?”

Byleth is deceased and buried; whatever surprised facial expressions could remain to show are long gone. 

“ _No_ ,” she says. She dated around alright, but all her relationships were short-lived, if intense. She just couldn’t find it in her to develop any sort of lasting romantic feelings for anyone.

Anyone except this idiot that stood in front of her, staring, waiting.

“Are… are you?” She asks in a whisper.

He shakes his head once and takes two steps forward.

Someone opens the door.

“By? I have to go to the entrance; more customers are arriving!”

Felix passes them both. As Byleth drops the cat toys on the floor again, she realises she had stopped breathing.

.

He starts appearing after the café closes, when Byleth is alone with the cats. He knocks at the back door and she answers. The first time, he brings a bag of cat food and a blanket (“I never bought him a cat bed,” he says apologetically). The second time, he brings a purple ball of yarn, and Felix the cat is absolutely elated at the sight of it. Byleth pauses on her sweeping to enjoy the show, as Felix the human leads the kitten, both of them running and jumping around. He seems to notice he’s being watched and stops, putting the ball away.

“What are you going to teach at Enbarr U?” He asks.

She resumes the sweeping. “Weapons History,” she answers. “And I might try my hand at Great Historical Battles and Modern Strategies.”

Felix whistles. “Impressive,” he says.

“But it’s all theory and books,” she finds herself admitting. “I miss exercising, I miss sparring with you or my dad. I’ve been doing it less and less.”

“Well, that can be arranged,” Felix decides, looking around. “I kept practicing and having classes. Kickboxing, Krav Maga.”

“You’ll beat me to a pulp, then.” Byleth shakes her head, but on the inside her heart sings and she’s already thinking of fighting stances.

“No way.” Felix offers a curt smile. “You were the best of us then, and fighting is like riding a bike. I can beat you now, but you’ll improve, and so will I.”

“Felix -“ she puts her hands on her hips, looks around. “We’re in a cat room. With cats. I’m still wearing my ears and my apron.”

“I’ll go slow,” he promises, and that’s just not quite the context Byleth wants to hear Felix say this in, but she can’t back down from a challenge. So she raises her fists and bends her legs the way it feels natural to her, borne from years of practice.

The next day, she’s sore all over but she hasn’t felt this joyful in years. The housekeeper plays a record of Christmas carols and the festive singing soars throughout the entire mansion. Byleth gets dressed, thanks her sincerely and hums songs the entire trip to the cat café.

Once she arrives, she sees Sylvain, Ingrid and Mercedes drinking tea by the window. The sun rises alongside a clear, vivid blue sky, making for quite a picturesque sighting. 

“Good morning, Byleth!” Sylvain greets. His eyes widen at something behind her, and she turns around to see just what has shocked him so.

Felix coughs twice.

“Hello,” he says. “I figured since you were all here, despite the closed sign, I could get in too.” He slides to a table, alone. “One coffee, no sugar,” he asks.

Ashe wastes no time on preparing him a cup, which Felix gulps down in a single gesture. He then looks around, notices every cat that is in the room: TamTam is going her morning obstacle course around the walls, Ophelia is delicately licking her paw, Sugarplum and Excalibur sleep on a big bed together, like the yin yang symbol. 

Then someone pushes the pet door open and it’s Felix the cat, traipsing out and about for the first time in the café room. Felix’s eyes somehow mellow slightly, watching the kitten braving unknown territory. He calls him with a faint whistle and the kitten stands still for a while, then runs towards the sound, rubbing at Felix’s hand.

It is heartwarming and everyone’s watching. He notices this and stands up, makes to leave.

“Oh Feliiiiix!” Annette calls in a sing-songy voice, having just left the kitchen. “We’re doing Secret Santa here on Christmas Day at ten in the morning! Wanna come?”

There’s a hole in the space-time continuum where everyone seems to suspend whatever they’re doing: Mercedes stares at her phone, Ingrid keeps drinking her tea, Ashe holds a tray perfectly still.

Felix shrugs. “Secret Santa? Sure,” he says, not looking at anywhere in particular. He then puts the coffee cup on the counter, leaves one bill next to it and goes away.

For a moment, no one says anything. Byleth glances at Sylvain: his light brown eyes are the size of saucers.

“Holy shit,” he says, before getting a tap from Ingrid. Luckily, no one looks at Byleth, so she allows herself a little smile.

.

It’s two days after Felix has agreed to attend Secret Santa and Byleth is cleaning the litter boxes after closing time when she hears a knock on the door. She opens it and Felix walks in, looking deadly serious and as handsome as always.

“I brought wet food,” he says, showing her a bag full of cans.

She nods and takes the bag from him. Their hands briefly touch, and it’s as if his are on fire. She steps away from him and he does the same.

“Have you bought your Secret Santa gift yet?” She asks, wanting desperately to fill the silence with something, anything.

“Yeah, I did. I’m not telling you who is it for,” he says, furrowing his brow.

“I’m not asking you to tell me,” she answers.

“Have you?”

“Yes. Annette warned me as soon as I arrived that there would be one.” Byleth thinks of the assortment of tea canisters she has procured for Sylvain, one for each different kind of tea, and feels very proud that she came up with such a gift. 

“Good.” It feels like he wants to keep talking, too.

Felix the cat meows and rolls on the floor; he’s looking for attention. Felix the human is happy to oblige, gets down on one knee and pets his soft tummy.

“You took good care of him, Felix,” Byleth says. “Felix is growing very well.”

Felix huffs. “I still do not know why did you all think it was a good idea to call him Felix. Now every time I hear my name, I don’t know if it’s me or the cat they’re referring to.”

This makes Byleth laugh and alleviates the atmosphere in the room, makes it easier to breathe. Felix opens a can and all the cats run avidly to the source of the delicious tuna smell.

“It was nothing,” he says. “Taking care of him. Beats having to stay next to my father going on and on about Christmas, or business, or anything else that leaves his mouth. Gave me a purpose in that damned house.”

Byleth swallows. Even now, he is ruthless when he talks about the Fraldarius estate and his rigid (yet kind, has always been kind to her) father.

“How’s your father doing?”

He looks away. “He wants me to be someone I’m not. Glenn is happier to indulge.”

“How so?” She scoots nearer him and starts sorting the cans by flavour and type.

“Learning the business trade. Partaking in meetings with" - he rolls his eyes - "associates. I don’t want anything to do with that.”

“Well, what do you want?” She asks earnestly, and his gaze turns vacant; he’s reaching for past memories.

“I don’t know.” The cats are voracious in their appetite, so Felix empties another can for them; this time, chicken mousse. “The only thing I like is to learn about fighting, martial arts; those sorts of things. I was happy when you and your father were here with us; for once, I was taught something I wanted to know.”

“Felix...” Byleth listens to her own voice breaking on every syllable, unbearably weak. She tries again. “Felix, I-I want to ask you something.”

“Then ask.” He gets closer to her, so close she can count tiny freckles on his nose that she didn’t remember were there, until now.

“D-Do you remember when we said goodbye?”

He inhales forcefully. “Yes.”

“And… do you remember how you said goodbye _to me_?”

Felix looks away suddenly, as if hit by lightning. Byleth half expects him not to answer, to end the conversation, and she’s already thinking of ways to backpedal out of the situation when he turns to her.

“I do,” he says. “I kissed you here.”

He places two fingers on the corner of her mouth very slowly, a tender caress, and Byleth doesn’t know if she’s dreaming, that must be it, she got hit in the head and is in Garreg Mach hospital convalescing, that’s got to be it. 

“But what I really wanted to do was to kiss you here,” Felix says, and he approaches her head little by little, little by little, until his lips touch hers.

They both move very, very slowly, only enough for them to adjust around each other. Felix gently holds her chin with his right hand and goes deeper into the kiss.

They stay like that for who knows how much time, exploring each other until they’re out of breath, briefly sated. By the time they reopen their eyes, all the cats are fast asleep. 

Byleth reluctantly separates from Felix and touches her own face, not the corners of her lips this time, but her whole mouth, in awe at what just happened.

“I wish you had said goodbye to me like that.”

“In retrospect, I should have.” Felix says, and for once his voice breaks too, fading into the cold winter air.

“I-“ Byleth stands prepared; she’s already begun confessing, might as well go all the way. “I kind of lingered. When you kissed me back there.” 

“I know.” Felix smiles, _smiles_ , a simple smile, but it’s enough for Byleth’s heart to burst into a million heart fragments. “I liked it.”

It’s too much all at once: the words, the smile, the kiss, which had a faint trace of the dark sugarless coffee he must’ve had recently, but on his lips tastes sweet, oh so sweet.

“Felix, I’m leaving in two days!” Byleth says, a wave of nausea rising through her throat. “How can we even -”

“Shhh,” he kisses her to quietude, pulling her to his chest, caressing her cheek. “Look, it’s because we didn’t want to risk the future that we did what we did all those years ago. Let’s do this differently this time. Let’s hang on to the present.”

Byleth doesn’t think this argument holds much weight, but it is hard to maintain a semblance of logic when _Felix Fraldarius_ is right next to her, kissing her temple and her forehead. He lowers his head, nibbles at her neck and she stops breathing altogether. 

They kiss once again and Byleth feels the need to trace his jaw, his nose, his closed eyelids, just about everything from this man. Then, they hear a “brrr?” from beneath them. Felix the cat decided it was an excellent occasion to reach for his former caretaker’s thigh, comfortably installing himself atop it. Byleth chuckles and embraces her man, feeling him near her, around her, both making up for an emptiness of nine years without each other.

.

Christmas day arrives and, with it, a bittersweet feeling, for it’s the last day she’ll stay in Garreg Mach. Everything’s neatly packed already, courtesy of the housekeeper (“Are you sure you want me to pack your belongings, Miss Byleth? Your grandmother insists you can stay longer.” “I’m absolutely sure, please do so.”)

The cat café is closed for the holiday and will remain closed until the New Year. Byleth arrives dressed in a pair of black laced leggings and the only ugly sweater she possesses, featuring Santa Claus holding a knife with the letters “Ho ho ho” dripping blood. 

“Merry Christmas!!!” Annette cheers. In the main room, someone has put on a Christmas’ best hits playlist which, of course, has to be playing All I Want for Christmas is You. Ingrid and Sylvain occupy a single beanbag, Ashe brings a Chocolate Yule Log to the table and Mercedes hangs up the phone with tearful eyes and a wide smile. Felix looks out the window, holding a glass of wine, but when he sees Byleth his eyes soften.

Everyone keeps their gifts within bags until Annette jumps to the center of the room, clanking on a glass for attention.

“On this special day,” she begins, “we gather for another Secret Santa here at the cat café -“

“Hear, hear!” Sylvain shouts, raising a glass of liquor Byleth had procured among her grandmother’s vintage collection.

Annette laughs. “Alright, alright, let’s start! Who wants to go first?”

The red-headed girl leaves exactly two seconds of space for anyone to answer until she volunteers, handing a brightly decorated package to Ingrid which she eagerly opens. It’s a series of books on philosophy and ethics.

“Thank you so much Annette! I’ve been wanting these for a long time!” She says, and Byleth knows she absolutely means it. Next, Ingrid hands a _sous-vide_ machine to Ashe, who in turn offers a guitar to Mercedes.

“I know you and Glenn like to play together, so now you can duet!” He says excitedly.

Mercedes thanks him profusely and Byleth sees her eyes getting shiny. The woman stands up, waving slightly to the tunes of the playlist.

“Alright, my turn!” She says. “I am Byleth’s Secret Santa! This is for you, dear,” and Byleth rips the wrapping paper made of journal to find a long, green padded coat.

“Mercedes… Thank you! I have a friend in Enbarr who’s always telling me I should buy a winter coat.” She lifts her new piece of clothing and puts it on; it engulfs her in a warmness, but the size is absolutely right.

“I’m so glad!” Mercedes says, and the two women hug tightly. If it weren’t for Mercedes, there wouldn’t be a cat café, nor a cousin Flayn asking to be replaced in said cat café. Byleth wishes her all the happiness in the world.

Next, Byleth offers her selection of teas to an ecstatic Sylvain (“My stash is replenished! Woo-hoo!”) who in turns offers an ugly Christmas sweater to Felix.

“I knew you wouldn’t come dressed to the part, so I took the liberty to offer you something useful. Can’t come up with an excuse now!”

His sweater is dark red and embroidered with a Charmander with a Christmas hat and pokeballs above and below. There are flames everywhere in the sweater. Felix puts it on and he should look ridiculous, but he makes it work somehow.

“It’s… not that bad,” Felix says. “From all the starters, it’s my favourite.”

Sylvain smiles and drinks more liquor.

“My gift is to Annette,” Felix says. “Here it is.”

He gives her a professional microphone and everyone can see she’s refraining from squeezing him in a hug.

“Ooooh Felix, thank you so so so much! You are the best! Sometimes you’re not a mean villain at all!”

When lunch hour approaches, they all have to leave for their own family engagements. They apologise for leaving her on Christmas Day, but secretly Byleth is relieved that she doesn’t have to attend a formal event, doesn’t have to put on a fancy dress and fancy shoes and makeup and follow the etiquette protocol they all need to know by heart if they want to leave a good impression. It is tiring, and ultimately pointless. 

Each one gives Byleth a heartfelt hug, wishing her a good trip back to Enbarr.

“Come visit us, alright? Or if you can’t, say something and we’ll come to you,” Ingrid says. 

“Thank you,” Byleth says.

“Anytime.”

Felix stays behind, still looking out the window; Sylvain gives him a look which he returns back.

She closes all the doors and leads the cats to their quarters. It’s done; her last day at the cat café is finished.

“That Sylvain is a sly fox,” Felix says out of the blue, startling her. “He really went and kidnapped the cat just so he could lure me out to the café and _meet you_.”

Byleth opens her mouth. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Felix says. “This is exactly what he planned for, the conniving little bastard.”

“ _Sylvain..._ ” He never said anything, never asked for recognition. Could he really have been that selfless?

“ _Yes, yes he could. That’s why he was alone that day; because Ingrid couldn’t have lied as well as him and he didn’t want her to take the brunt of Felix’s anger. Goddess…_ ”

“Hey. Stop thinking so much and come here,” Felix beckons.

She follows him right to where he is and kisses him deeply, lets him put his hands on her shoulders, on her waist…

“Wait, wait, not for that,” he says out of breath. “Here. I have something for you.” 

He fumbles with his pocket for a while before grabbing a small dark blue velvet pouch.

“There.” As soon as he hands her the pouch he looks elsewhere, seemingly entertained with something else.

“Felix...” Byleth undoes the pouch’s tie to reveal a silver bracelet with a small dagger on top and three rubies lining the hilt. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it. I didn’t have much time to pick anything else.”

“It’s perfect,” she ascertains. She really doesn’t know how he managed to buy this in such a short time.

“Oh,” she realizes suddenly. “I didn’t buy you anything.”

“You don’t have to. You’re my gift,” he says, getting closer and closer to Byleth. She feels a shiver run down her spine, waiting with anticipation at the resuming of their making out session...

... and ends up getting a peck on the cheek.

“Hey.”

Felix laughs. “Merry Christmas, Byleth.” He touches the corner of her lips and leaves.

.

A thirty-one-hour car trip to Enbarr awaits Byleth with bated breath, for sure. The memory of the last one is still too fresh; still, she has commitments at Enbarr and can’t stay any longer.

Byleth takes a minute to say “see you later” to the house that saw her grow from a little girl who hid behind her mother’s skirts to a woman who is preparing to teach her first class in a subject she loves.

She is eager to pursue that path, now more than ever, now that she took this break at the cat café and was able to see so many old faces, now that she knows she can balance the old and the new, the mental and the physical. She’s just not sure how she can carry on without him near her, again.

She presses the accelerator and makes a last impromptu trip to Garreg Mach Cat Café; she can’t leave without seeing the cats one last time. 

Byleth parks her car and looks around the cat room: Sugarplum, TamTam and Ophelia play with a ball of yarn. Excalibur and Rexxie roll on the floor, letting their fur get soaked with the first rays of sunshine of the day.

She can’t see Felix the cat.

She runs around frantically around the café, searching through every nook, corner, entrance and tunnel in the house. Felix isn’t there.

She is about to call Mercedes in absolute panic when a car honks. She pulls the curtains to the side and sees a blue Subaru on the other side of the road, with Felix leaning on the front door.

“Are you looking for this?” He shouts across the street, raising a carrier: Felix the cat meows softly, eyes shining from inside it.

“You - you took Felix back? Without telling me?” Byleth screams back, crossing the road. It was starting to snow, and she could see the snowflakes falling from the sky, slowly covering the floor and the trees in a white mantle.

“I didn’t know you were going back here,” he says. “Besides, I’m leaving too. I’m going to Enbarr.”

“You - what?”

Felix smiles. “Yes, you heard me. I’m going to enroll in Enbarr U.” He puts the carrier inside the car and Byleth takes a peek: there are boxes and bags on the back.

“Just like that?” She asks, but then remembers he is _Felix Fraldarius_ ; of course he can just give a call to the dean and enroll at any time he wants, just like Sylvain said he could himself.

“Yeah.” He answers like it’s obvious. It takes him a while to speak again, and when he does, he’s determined. “I want to go forward. I don’t have all the answers, but there are choices that are mine to make. You made me understand that, Byleth.” He grabs her shoulder and kisses her. “Thank you.”

“I - But that means we’re going to the same place.”

“Yes. An added bonus.”

Byleth is so unused to hear Felix speak like that, she looks at him up and down.

The snow falls heavier. “Does this mean I can be your teacher?” She asks, baffled.

“If I choose Weapon History, yes. It’s very likely,” he says. 

Byleth laughs. It is absurd that, after almost half a life without Felix, she meets him again only for him to become her _student_. She has to talk to Edelgard about this. 

She turns to her old but truthful car, not quite believing she’s not returning alone.

“Hey,” says Felix, stopping her in her tracks. “There’s space for your things in my car. I’ll have yours sent later. Hop in, I’ll drive.”

“We can trade!” She exclaims brightly, prompting a chuckle from Felix. 

This is how Byleth ends up on the passenger seat of a blue Subaru on route to Enbarr with a dark-haired boy complaining of the poor condition of the roads (“Does Enbarr U have a heliport? It must have, we’ll go by helicopter next time”) and a black cat purring at her constant petting and reassurance that yes, they will arrive shortly. And she does not know what the future holds for them, the teacher with a short gig at a local cat café and the businessman’s son turned college student, but she knows they’ll go on their journey together.


End file.
